


To Relieve Stress

by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Desk Sex, F/F, Massage, Oral Sex, Overworking, Post-Canon, Stress Relief, Switching, Vaginal Fingering, and Rose knows just how to help, in which Alisha is working too hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: Rose leans in to press a kiss where the tiniest pale curls of her blonde hair can tickle her nose. “I’m just thinking you deserve the right to relax. And what better way to relieve stress than to…”Alisha swallows; Rose can feel the flex of her throat under her lips. “To…what?”Rose hums. Her grin curls wide, hands skimming down Alisha’s back to find the lip of her undershirt, where it’s creeping up at her waist. “Well, talk it out, naturally.”Alisha hitches a gasp when Rose’s fingers curl against her skin. “Rose—”“—among other things.”
Relationships: Alisha Diphda/Rose
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	To Relieve Stress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilentShanin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentShanin/gifts).



Rose frowns and tilts her head. Her shoulder is beginning to cramp from where she’s been leaning against the doorframe for minutes on end, watching and waiting and watching some more as Alisha scritches out the line she just wrote and fiddles with her pen. The princess spins it over and under each finger down to her pinky and up again—a practiced, rehearsed deftness born from years of wielding spears and javelins and swords.

Rose is kind of wild about it.

After Alisha begins writing again, Rose steps away from the doorway and moves into the room. She clasps her hands behind her back, keeping every step across the marble floor silent. She steps around the princess and hums softly to herself as she gets a glimpse over the proposal Alisha’s been revising for the past hour and a half. There are several notes scattered across the desk surface. Lithely, Rose strides towards the window, where she perches on the upholstered bench under the sill. She crosses one leg over the other, leans her elbow onto her knee, and waits.

Alisha doesn’t lift her head.

So Rose tries a different tactic.

She jumps to her feet and with a slow, half-skip of a walk, begins to trot forward to the desk. When the toes of her boots hit the ornately carved front, leans over it with both elbows planted over the topmost paper—

“—if you are intending to make me lose my focus, Rose, allow me to remind you that I am very good at keeping my cool even in the midst of distractions.”

“Oh?” Rose grins and does not move at all. “So you admit I _am_ distracting, your highness?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Rose hums, unconvinced. 

Alisha finally—delightfully—raises her eyes. She sighs. “Rose. You know I love you, but please. Please, actually move. I do need to finish this.”

“Why? It’s not due tomorrow.”

“No, but—” For a split second, Alisha’s mouth hangs open. Then, just as quickly, the surprise fades. She leans back in her chair, and a soft smile curls her mouth. _Good,_ Rose thinks. _Been waiting to see that._ “Perhaps I should not be so surprised that you know this.”

“I’m _very_ good at finding out your work schedule, your highness.”

“As you’ve proven time and time again.”

Alisha sits up. It’s such a simple, thoughtless movement until it isn’t. Sharply, she gasps and reaches up a hand to the back of her neck. Her face contorts—pretty green eyes squeezed tight—and immediately, Rose rounds the desk. She pulls Alisha’s hand away.

“Rose—”

“—here,” Rose murmurs. “Let me.”

Furtively, Alisha glances up. It’s a stiff motion, moving as little of her chin as she can. Rose frowns and waves her hand again. As Alisha leans forward, Rose slips her arms over the back of the chair. She pulls down Alisha’s coat collar and digs her thumbs into the muscle at the base of her neck over her black shirt. 

Sharply, Alisha gasps. She stiffens once more.

“Sorry,” Rose whispers.

“No. No…it’s fine.” 

Rose pauses. She can feel Alisha’s rapid flutter-pulse through her dark shirt. Once it’s slowed, she presses her thumbs in again in slow, cyclical movements. She can feel the heavy build-up of muscle and knots and tsks, shaking her head. Her tone turns fondly scolding. “Alisha.”

“…mm…?”

“How long have you been at this?”

“What? The redistricting proposal?” Alisha sighs and tilts her head back. Rose’s eyes follow the long, curved line of her throat. “This isn’t even the first draft.”

“It isn’t?”

“It’s the fourth, I believe. Maybe the fifth. I don’t know. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve been working on it forever. There’s been so much push-back from the council the past few weeks; they would do anything to keep the lower quarter as it is so they can tax it as much as they want…it’s ridiculous.”

Rose makes a non-committal sound. Her eyes fall onto the draft on the desk. There are so many papers—so many different versions—all of the same document. “Have you really been working on it that long?”

“There’s a lot that has to go into it so everybody’s at least a little bit happy.” Alisha rolls her head and Rose moves her attention to Alisha’s shoulders before Alisha catches her hand. With a soft, “Wait,” she then unties the bow at her neck and unclasps the buttons of her coat. Once it falls from her shoulders and pools around her waist, her black undershirt is all that remains. Rose runs her hands slowly over Alisha’s shoulders.

Alisha sighs and sinks into her touch.

“Okay. Then tell me about it.”

Alisha laughs.

Rose can feel every bit of it, every bubble and tremble of it up her shoulders. She traces the feeling, every swinging line. Follows its path with her fingers. 

“I’m sorry. You _really_ don’t want me to talk politics with you.”

“Mm. I mean, if you assume that’s my end goal here,” Rose hums and she grins. When she digs her thumbs into the back of Alisha’s neck again, right where her skin peeks up over the turtle-neck of her undershirt, Alisha sighs and drops her chin forward onto her chest. Rose leans in to press a kiss where the tiniest pale curls of her blonde hair can tickle her nose. “I’m just thinking you deserve the right to relax. And what better way to relieve stress than to…” 

Alisha swallows; Rose can feel the flex of her throat under her lips. “To…what?”

Rose hums. Her grin curls wide, hands skimming down Alisha’s back to find the lip of her undershirt, where it’s creeping up at her waist. “Well, talk it out, naturally.”

Alisha hitches a gasp when Rose’s fingers curl against her skin. “Rose—”

“—among other things.”

A flush spreads across Alisha’s skin, starting from high at the tip of her ears and rushing down her neck. Rose rubs into the small of her back and enjoys all too well the way she arches against the touch. Slowly, with every soothing and firm push and press, Alisha’s head lolls back onto Rose’s shoulder. Without even being aware of it, her eyes have slipped closed.

Rose hums and presses harder. She slides her hands slowly upward, continuing to rub in lazy, easy circles. Alisha’s shirt hikes up with her wrists.

“W-wait. What was I supposed to talk about again?” Alisha blearily murmurs.

“Work.”

“Mm…” 

Alisha’s skin has always been soft, which is the most amazing thing to Rose, seeing as how Alisha is also single-handedly one of the strongest warriors she’s ever seen with an impressive build of muscles—though maybe such skin delicacy is just an extended effect of being a princess. If so, Rose would very much like to thank whoever it is that decided Alisha should somehow still be tender and silky. _Can I get in on that lotion routine? Better yet, can I help apply it?_

“Rose.”

“Yeah, Lisha?”

“I don’t think…I want to talk about work.” 

_God. I love her so much—_

Rose kisses the side of her neck. It’s as addicting as always. She kisses again and again and again, trailing a wet line upward that follows Alisha’s jaw and rises to her ear where she nips at its red top curve.

Alisha’s next inhale stutters on its way in.

_Perfect._

It’s hard not to grin; Rose’s smile widens further when she drags her fingers higher to find three small, familiar clasps. Her nail taps against them. “Then,” she drags out exquisitely slowly and curls her tongue against her teeth. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to talk about instead, your highness?”

“I don’t think I _can_ talk about anything coherently right now. You’re a little _too_ good at being distracting.”

“That’s the idea,” Rose grins. “Well? Do I have your permission to distract you further?”

“We…shouldn’t do this in here.”

“I locked the door after I came in.”

Alisha’s eyes flutter open. She cranes her head as best she can—with far more movement and ease than she could before—and pins Rose’s smokey blues with her own two blown-wide honeydew greens. 

“All right, then. Please,” she whispers and single-handedly scorches Rose’s nerves.

“Stand up.”

“Okay—” 

Alisha isn’t even barely on her feet before Rose climbs over the arm of the chair into the seat behind her. It’s a little clumsy—all legs and little finesse than she’s usually capable of—Rose blames it entirely on Alisha’s coat she has to bother with pushing off onto the floor—but as soon as Rose is sitting, she takes Alisha’s hips and pulls her close in the space between her spread knees. 

When Alisha tries to sit again, Rose squeezes her hips. Her thumbs dig into her bare skin. “Uh-uh. Not yet.”

“No?”

Rose kisses along the sweep of her spine, pushing up Alisha’s shirt again with her hand. “No,” she confirms. “Take off your shirt first, your highness.”

Again, Alisha’s skin pinkens—runs red and wings up over her back and darkening the freckles that round her shoulders. She has always had such strong reactions to being commanded, and Rose has always, always loved taking advantage of it. 

It’s not every day you can boss royalty around.

There’s something about the forward curl of Alisha’s shoulders as she finishes tugging the sleeves of her undershirt off that Rose particularly adores. Perhaps because the motion shows off her fighter’s muscles—perhaps because it pronounces the curves of her figure.

Rose unclasps Alisha’s bra and spreads out her hand against the faint indents in her skin underneath. Alisha makes a soft, vulnerable sound. Rose leans up, sliding forward on the chair until her front is flush against Alisha’s ass and she can slip her hands up, around that slender middle until her fingers push under the cups of her bra.

Alisha’s next gasp is high. Strangled.

Her ponytail bounces over Rose’s shoulder. 

“Rose—”

“—your bra, now, your highness.”

“R-right…”

With shaky fingers, Alisha drags the lavender straps off her shoulders, down her arms until it falls to the floor.

Rose presses her lips to the center of Alisha’s spine and smiles all too widely at the completely whipped, bare way the princess moans her name once Rose has her breasts in hand. She squeezes them gently. Massages. As tortuously loving and adoring as ever.

“That’s right. My Alisha,” Rose breathes. 

She squeezes the bud of one breast and flicks her finger over its crest. Alisha hitches a gasp again. Involuntarily, her ass shoves back into Rose’s middle. She still has her white, billowy skirt on—the hem of it brushes over Rose’s thighs. It leaves lightning sparks in its wake. 

“Want to sit?”

“Please.”

Rose leans back and Alisha rests between her legs. They are pressed flush together—Alisha’s back curving over Rose’s chest. Rose can feel every ragged rise and fall and all-too-well enjoys rumbling into Alisha’s neck, “Now that I have you where I want you, tell me: what would help you relieve the most stress?”

“Rose, please.”

“Please what?”

Alisha huffs. It turns shaky as one of Rose’s hands slides lower and skims slow over her stomach. Rose taps against the line where her skirt hugs her skin. 

“What is it that you want most, princess?”

“You only call me that when you want to do this, you know.”

“You mean when I want to fuck you?”

Alisha stiffens and leans back against Rose’s breasts. Her skin colors a perfectly pretty pink, now stretching from the top of her forehead down to the ends of her fingertips. She hasn’t worn pink in so long, but in these moments, Rose finds that she’s awfully glad to see it again. Alisha wears the color beautifully.

“Must you always speak so crassly?”

“Mm. You like it.” Alisha wouldn’t be so delightfully flushed if she didn’t. Rose doesn’t bat an eye. “Now. Be a good princess and spread your legs for me. Put your knees over mine.”

Alisha’s breathing is more laborious than before. Rose loves it—loves the tiny tremble across her creamy thighs as they part, stretching out to either side. There’s something overwhelmingly sensitive and intimate in the way her feet dangle at Rose’s calves, the way her toes curl into the leather of her boots. One hooks around a tie and holds.

“You’re still dressed,” Alisha breathes.

“Mm. We can solve that problem later.” Rose slips her fingers beneath the band of Alisha’s skirt first, then her underwear. “For now…” 

Perhaps the sound Alisha makes is supposed to be a gasp; it sounds much more mousy instead: tight and high and squeaky. Rose adores it, just as she adores all too well the way Alisha’s head falls back over her shoulder and the way her ponytail jolts with every tiny twitch. She can feel each tremble of Alisha’s stomach muscles as Rose’s fingers skim over the curl of her lower hair. She probes, mapping out where the labia begins. 

The band of Alisha’s underwear slips over her wrist now as Rose’s fingertips finally find slick flesh—and she can picture in her mind’s eye the familiar, bright pinkness of those folds, eager to be touched. Leisurely, she drags her fingers down and then up.

“Rose,” Alisha gasps and turns her forehead against Rose’s cheek. Her knees jerk, as if trying to close together. 

With a soft, “Ah-ah-ah,” Rose puts her free hand over one of those white thighs, keeping it still. She fans her fingers out over the wide, milky spread—admiring the small puckers and freckles along her skin. Alisha’s breath turns jagged, ghosting along Rose’s jaw—hot, puffy, heady—preceding the eager kiss she presses to Rose’s cheek.

Rose grins and slowly, her finger drags over Alisha’s folds again. Only a second and light, teasing touch. Nothing more.

But promising.

Alisha slowly sags against her.

“Yeah. That’s it, Lisha,” Rose hums and draws a slow circle. “That’s my girl. Just relax.”

Alisha’s halting gasps melt into meek whines, pinched and high with every circle and figure-eight that Rose begins to draw around her clit. Alisha’s back arches an inch at a time as if she’s unfurling—one foot makes a short, jerky movement—only to become melted pudding a second later. Her thighs shake again, but with Rose’s hand warm on the inside of her thigh, keeping her spread, they don’t try to close again.

A moment later, and Alisha sharply gasps, “Rose.” Her hand shoots up behind herself, unseeing, before finally latching onto Rose’s hair. 

“Mm?”

“F-faster. Please. More.”

Rose grins and cranes her head to press a kiss to Alisha’s temple. “Yes, your highness.”

She presses with two fingers over her clit and rubs. 

Alisha gasps. Her lips press together tightly, her body making tiny, almost flinching movements—chasing the heat and pleasure of Rose’s fingers. Her face scrunches up tight and then she jerks her head to the side involuntarily, exposing her neck. 

Rose leans in and sinks her teeth into the sensitive skin at the base and sucks.

Alisha jerks again, stronger now. Her hips spasm, thrusting forward against Rose’s hand—almost knocking her own ass off the chair. But Rose keeps the pressure hard and down, holding her steady, drawing her back flush against her own front as she makes thrusting motions with her hand and her own hips behind her. Slow, sensual movements. Her palm flexes and unflexes, over and over again, fingers drawing the same shapes over and over against Alisha’s clit.

“Rose!” Alisha gasps and her voice rises with her; her body undulates, thrusting forward without any control against Rose’s fingers, before pressing back between Rose’s legs. “Ah— _ah—”_ Her voice breaks off into a thready moan.

With her other hand, Rose takes hold of Alisha’s right breast.

“Hng! I’m!” Alisha’s voice has turned desperate. It pitches high and shaky. “Rose—”

Rose sucks hard and with that and a crack of her voice, Alisha tosses her head back.

She doesn’t breathe for a second—then two—

—her body arches in a line as tight as a bow’s string— 

Rose stops, completely still. Waiting. Listening. As Alisha’s breath finally returns to her, slow and dizzy, and she slowly sags back, Rose pulls her teeth away and runs her tongue over the hickey she’s left: a reddening plum-like mark—very dark—very round—sticking out on Alisha’s skin. She kisses, soft and gentle at its rim.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she finally murmurs as Alisha stirs again. She gives one more loving trace along Alisha’s folds before drawing her hand back up and out from her panties. “Glenwood to her royal highness, Princess Alisha Diphda. How’re we feelin’ tonight?” 

There’s a quiet giggle before Alisha sighs. “Consider me thoroughly…relieved.”

Rose smiles and kisses the side of her face. Once. Twice. Three times, stopping just beside a dreamy green eye. “Good.”

Immediately, Alisha turns and meets her mouth with her own. She presses hard, one hand cupping the side of Rose’s face to turn her at the right angle for their lips to work together. Rose sighs into it and runs her dry hand up Alisha’s back. Over and over, they crash together and come back again and rise up only to fall.

“I love you so much,” Rose breathes.

Alisha smiles. Her fingertips run over the curve of Rose’s cheek, following the roundness of it down and around the slope of her jaw. “Mm. Perhaps not as much as I love you, Rose.”

She taps a finger against Rose’s lips, something playful and alight in her eyes.

Rose would be lying if she admitted it wasn’t just the _littlest_ bit effective at turning her on. “What’s that look for?” she asks, trying not to grin.

“I think it’s my turn.”

“Your turn…for?”

Alisha’s hand drifts lower and sneaks under the edge of Rose’s tunic. Rose stifles a soft gasp, stiffening, as Alisha’s fingers curl against her. The cloth lining of her pants separates those fingers from where Rose _really_ wants them to be.

“Oh,” Rose stutters eloquently.

“Oh,” Alisha agrees and her grin curls wider.

* * *

Rose tosses her head back against the desk with a high-strung gasp, choked off before it can fully escape. “Lisha!”

Her fingers dig into Alisha’s golden hair, nails scraping against her scalp. It’s _good._ Every hot swipe of Alisha’s tongue—every dip into her—every flick against her walls—the heat curls and explodes in Rose’s gut, sparking like fireworks. She tries not to rock her hips upwards, tries not to cram her cunt against the princess’s face but Alisha’s tongue—her sliding _tongue—_

“A-ah!” The stuttered gasp out of her whines at the end. High. High. High— “That’s it. Just like that, Lisha. You’re—” She shudders. “—ah—y-you’re doing so good—”

Alisha makes a small, pleased hum, and Rose shakes.

“Y-you’re sure this is your first time doing this?”

Unexpectedly, Alisha laughs. She pulls her mouth up and away—most regrettably—but her fingers curl nicely against the outside of Rose’s thighs, keeping her legs right where she wants them before they can fall askew. “Rose, are you sure you want to try holding a conversation while I’m doing my utmost to eat you out?”

Rose’s face burns as red as her hair. It was one thing for _her_ to talk like that. Another entirely to hear the phrase “eat you out” followed by “utmost,” all coming out of _Alisha’s very shiny mouth._ “Listen, Lisha—”

“—you know, I know _you_ like doing this, but I desperately want to show you that I can, too. It’s my turn now, Rose. So please. Lay back.”

“If you’re sure.”

Alisha grins. With her loose hair falling around her face, her breasts bare and pale in the moonlight, she looks different—not quite the rigid and stoic princess she likes to be in the daytime. It shouldn’t be so captivating to watch her lips glisten and shine in the dim light; perhaps it’s the intimacy of _why_ they are so wet and dripping that makes Rose flush more.

Alisha ducks down again and Rose sucks in a breath, tossing her eyes to the ceiling. The heat of Alisha’s breath curls against her as Alisha starts lovingly tonguing her folds. But as soon as that tongue presses inside her, Rose gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. Her fingers tighten again; the nerves in her thighs shake. Alisha presses her fingers into the meat of her legs, keeping her steady. Pressing her tongue in harder. Deeper.

Rose keens. It quickly turns into a high, embarrassed moan.

She raises a hand to her mouth and considers biting her fingers. Instead, mouth parted as she raggedly breathes and breathes and breathes, the back of her hand falls over her eyes. Heat pools in her cheeks and stirs in her gut, brought to life with every upward, thrusting lick.

_One of these days, I’m gonna die at the hands of a princess with her tongue in my cunt—what a way for an assassin to go._

The flame in her gut grows hazy. Smoky.

“Lisha…” she gasps. Again and again. Her back arches against the desk with the next wide press in. The wooden surface is hard, unforgiving against her shoulders, but somehow the chilled firmness of it provides a counterpoint to her building pleasure. She lifts her chin. Both hands pull Alisha’s head in closer. Her hips work unintentionally, jerking in short, spastic grinds. “Lisha, I’m—I’m gonna—” 

Alisha hums and doesn’t make a noise of complaint. Rose gasps again, high and hard, at the next upward stroke of Alisha’s tongue and crashes her cunt against her mouth and that invading tongue. _“Lisha—”_

She feels all her muscles squeeze tight and suddenly, pleasure rolls over her in contracting waves. 

Rose makes an entirely embarrassing, strangled sigh of a sound in its aftermath. Slowly, she can once again start to feel her ridiculous, pounding heartbeat in two places at once. Both knees fall to either side, splaying open from where they’d subconsciously been tensing up, heels catching on the edge of the desk. Almost trapping Alisha’s head in place.

Alisha lifts herself up and licks her lips.

It should not be that sexy—the way that pink tongue of her’s curls over the shimmer of her mouth and laps up the wetness trailing down.

Rose reaches for Alisha’s shoulder and then groans. With a heavy sigh, she sags back against the wood. She throws her other arm over her eyes and hides in the shadow of her elbow. Slowly, her breathing starts to regulate. “Yeah.” She swallows. “Okay. _Now_ I kind of wish I hadn’t been so horny.”

“W-what makes you say that?”

Alisha’s voice is all worry and fear. It snaps Rose to sit upright immediately, moving to cup the princess’s face in her hands, despite how her back screams. Just as quickly, Rose stiffens. Her shoulders jerk and she winces.

Alisha glances down to the desk. “Oh…right.”

Rose waves a hand and smiles. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” After a moment more she fully bends over, resting her arms over her knees and gazing at the princess still between them, face framed between her fingers. She pushes a lock of Alisha’s hair behind her ear—a tender, simmering touch. “C’mon, now, Lisha. Don’t look so guilty. This _was_ my idea, after all. I was the one who locked the door on us.” 

“Mm, but I—”

“—besides,” Rose says and grins. “Now, I guess this means it’s my turn again. _You_ can give _me_ a massage, huh?”

“And get you all worked up again?” Alisha says and folds her arms underneath her against the desk to lean in. The motion bunches up her breasts between her arms, pillows them nice and round between her muscles. She has a big, cheesy grin on her face that’s completely open and all Rose’s. Only Rose’s. Rose frames it with her hands and runs her thumbs over the happy, sated stretch of her smile. “Or—what was it you had said you were? Horny?”

Rose tosses her head back and laughs. “Lisha…!”

Alisha’s face burns red. For a second, she looks indignant. “I’m just saying—”

“—yes.” Rose laughs and kisses her nose and her cheeks. She captures her lips in her own, slow and sweet. Scraps her teeth against the lower lip just to taste it. “I know what you’re trying to say, and just yes. You don’t even need to ask.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you SO MUCH for the request, SilentShanin! <3 <3 this was SO much fun to write! <3 <3 it's always an honor to write the girls, honestly (and my first explicit fic, too!! GOSH I had fun with this!!) ALSO, THANK YOU SHANIN FOR THIS [AMAZING ART??](https://twitter.com/SilentShanin/status/1298817382958411776?s=20) it's SO GOOD!! ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!! 
> 
> <3 also, BIG THANKS to my friend Koko who also helped beta-read this, too <3 i owe you
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/kissykrissey) / [tblr](https://krisseycrystal.tumblr.com/)


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